


Bored Games

by kitkattaylor



Category: Troyler - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-16
Updated: 2017-03-16
Packaged: 2018-10-06 05:11:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10326290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitkattaylor/pseuds/kitkattaylor
Summary: a strange boy in a supermarket and lots of snow (and later sex)





	

It was a sunny winter's day, bright with blue skies. People shuffled through the supermarket aisles in sun hats and sunglasses. Tyler pulled down the zipper on his hoodie as he passed beneath a ceiling fan, blowing out gentle heat. He could've rolled up his sleeves too, which was why he paused his search for fabric softener when he caught sight of the boy across the aisle; swamped in a giant coat, two scarves, and boots as if he were about to go mountain trekking.

Quietly wheeling his cart forward, Tyler smiled to himself as he watched the boy frantically tearing items off the shelf; two shampoos, two soaps. Either he had quadruplets or he _really_ liked being clean. Tyler couldn't see what the boy looked like, in fact he could well have assumed wrongly that it was even a boy at all, all he knew was he had short, brown hair sticking up above his large furry hood and slim legs that appeared even slimmer when dressed with such heavy footwear. Dragging his eyes away to take a bottle of fabric softener, he jumped at the word ' _mushrooms_ ' beside him and turned to see the boy dart down the aisle, wheels squeaking, grabbing a handful of lip balms on his way. Tyler stared at the corner he'd disappeared around, and gingerly followed.

It was definitely a boy; around the same age as himself. Tyler could now see the side of his face as he compared two avocados. Sidling up to the shelf of canned fruits, he picked a can of peaches just for the sake of busying himself. The boy's cart was already filled with food, which pilled higher as he tossed three, no, _four_ , avocados on top of it. Two rolls of toilet paper, canned soups, coffee, a shelf full of ready meals, pasta, eggs, juice, bread, three pints of milk, cheese, chips, beer, wine....Was he having a party? Did he run a hotel? Did he secretly have a stomach the size of Jupiter beneath that coat? And if he was having a party...why did he need so much soup?!

Tyler's eyes followed him as he moved along to locate the carrots and onions, muttering to himself the entire time, his hands skipping from item to item. Standing back, his lips moving as he recited his shopping list, he looked to Tyler and his face lit up. Tyler froze as the boy approached, legs striding determinedly, his coat flapping around him. He barely put on the brakes as he stopped in front of Tyler, eyes glued to the can of peaches still held up in his hand.

"A-ha," he smiled, eyes moving to the shelf beside them. "Peaches!" He chirped. Sliding his hand around a can, and then a second, he hummed to himself, unbothered by the proximity between them. Tyler looked up at the boy, taller than he'd realised, and continued to stare at him as he bounced back to his shopping cart. Slowly, he pushed his own cart towards the boy's, and reached for the basket of oranges. He was now choosing between a handful of lemons, eyes bright and focused with the decision. The speakers dinged above them and a fuzzy voice called for a clean-up in aisle 2. The supermarket echoed with the patter of footsteps and soft voices and the beeping at check-out. Calm and familiar and sleepy; the opposite of this strange, frenzied creature beside him.

"It's for the storm."

Tyler lifted his head. The boy wasn't looking at him, he was inspecting the lemons – so close they were almost pressed to his eye – but there was no one else in this aisle he could be talking to. Unless, of course, he was still talking to himself.

"Storm?"

All the lemons tumbled into the cart. Grasping the handle, the boy began walking away. Rushing after him as casually as he could, Tyler took a closer look at the boy as he replied.

"Yes! We're all going to be snowed in come 6 o'clock."

Tyler frowned. "But that's ridiculous, the snow melted weeks ago. And I've not heard a single weather report."

The boy hummed and smiled mischievously. He was actually really cute. Mad, but cute.

"Don't you ever look at the clouds?"

They stopped in front of the row of cereal brands. Tyler stood by and watched as Peaches' (so Tyler had decided to temporarily call him) hand danced in front of the Shredded Wheat, the Raisin Bran, and ended up snatching one box of Frosted Flakes and two Froot Loops.

"There aren't hardly any today."

"Exactly. The quiet before the storm."

Tyler snorted and the boy turned to him with wide eyes. Tyler trailed off laughing as he stared at him, waiting for him to stop.

"Sorry," Tyler apologised quickly. The boy blinked and his face softened somewhat, and then he was back to the animated expression Tyler had first seen as he skidded across to the shelves of honey and jelly and peanut butter. Tyler followed at a slower pace.

"You will be sorry when you run out of your favourite cereal and toilet paper." Tyler raised an eyebrow. The boy glanced at him, a pot of raspberry and strawberry jelly in both hands. He tutted as he looked Tyler up and down. "And you'll freeze on the way home."

Tyler was tempted to bump his cart into Peaches (who really did suit that name, going by the cute little ass Tyler could peek at from beneath his coat) (though now he couldn't use that name without thinking of said cute little ass), but maybe they weren't that comfortable with one another yet, even if it felt like it.

"I think you'll rather melt. Didn't you already?"

"Quick! Raspberry or strawberry?"

"Both. The ice age is coming, after all."

Tyler smiled innocently as the boy fixed him with a disapproving expression. He took blueberry in the end. Two pots.

Naturally walking with Tyler as he exited the aisle, the boy sighed and shrugged uncomfortably beneath his coat. Tyler's lips quirked with amusement but he didn't respond. His boots thudded beside Tyler's soft trainers. "Are you going to check-out now?"

"Um-" Tyler glanced around, not wanting to look like he'd just hung around to talk to the boy. "No I need some of these."

"Gardening gloves?"

"Yes," Tyler retorted confidently, checking the price and grimacing silently. The lengths he would go for cute boy. Shoving the gloves into his cart, he cleared his throat and looked up to find said cute boy's cart abandoned.

"Oooh!"

Smiling toothily, the boy swung around, a tiny cactus cupped in his hands. Tyler almost rolled his eyes. Boy, he couldn't imagine being his boyfriend. Imagine how many cactuses, or alternates to cactuses, you'd have to intervene this dork from buying. Then again, he had no garden and a pair of gardening gloves tossed limply atop his loaf of bread.

Using the registers across from one another, Tyler smiled as the tiny cactus rolled across the conveyer belt and into the cashier's hands. His new friend picked it up gleefully and waved it at Tyler excitedly, hugging it close to him and going to kiss it, laughing when Tyler's exasperation turned into panic. Paying up and slipping his bag of purchases to the crook of his elbow, Tyler went to observe the boy who was hunched over the end of the register, desperately trying to fit everything into the plastic bags. His hood kept falling into his eyes and he huffed as he pushed it back, curly hair flicking from his forehead.

"Need a hand?"

"Nope!" The boy strained to reply as his arms shook trying to pick up all his bags.

"Want me to hold the cactus?"

"Definitely not."

Tyler cackled as the boy hobbled towards the door, two bags ready to burst on both arms and another pressed against his chest. In the hood of his jacket, his cactus poked out, swaying with each awkward step.

Striding with ease to the exit, Tyler's smile slipped as the bright skies outside the doors loomed. He didn't want this to be the end of his interactions with the boy; he didn't even know his name. He couldn't let him waddle off into the sunset without a goodbye, or rather, without exchanging phone numbers. Hastening his step, he pushed through the doors with his shoulder and near bumped into the boy's back (face to cactus) as he stumbled into the cold.

Snow.

Tyler zipped up his hoodie.

Tilting his face, his mouth opened as tiny snowflakes circled down around them. It was like a different day. The blue sky was white and his fingers reddened with the cold. Wind whipped around them and the snow fell heavier, settling on the ground as ice carved its patterns into the car windows and metal railings.

All of a sudden, the boy dropped his bags and mushrooms and lemons tumbled out onto the ground. The plastic bags slumped and the boy who'd held them skipped around, a slow smile spreading across his face. Opening his arms, he closed his eyes and Tyler watched as the snowflakes came to embrace him. They snuggled around his boots and decorated the cactus in his hood. Blinking as they danced for the attention of his eyes, he looked back at Tyler, who had crossed his arms and was shaking his head.

"Well....?" Tyler patted his pockets and drew out his keys. "Am I a genius or what?"

"I hesitate to call you a genius when you have eggs broken on the floor and soup rolling into the gutter."

The boy dropped his arms and followed the rolling sound of his soup can. He bit his lip as it crashed to a halt against the metal gutter. Jangling his keys around his finger, Tyler raised his eyebrows as the boy looked back to him.

"Do you have a car?"

Gathering up the contents of Troye's shopping – as he had introduced himself with a relinquished sigh – they squished the bags into the trunk of Tyler's car and carefully drove back to Troye's house as the snow (or rather 'Troye's snow', as Tyler had come to think of it) played around the wheels and roads. Parking up and ducking from the heavier snowfall, Troye unlocked his front door and they jogged for three trips between them to get every bag inside, one or two tearing on the way. Panting a little with laughter, Tyler ran a hand through his hair, wet with melted snow. Troye collapsed down onto the floorboards and began tugging at his boots.

"Thank you," Troye said breathlessly, sighing with relief once he got one boot off and waggled his damp foot in the air. "You'll stay for a coffee, or something?"

Blinking up at him, face still framed by his oversized hood, Tyler's heart beat warmly inside of him. Pretending to glance at his watch, as if he was in any question about it, he shrugged. "Yeah, that would be nice. Just until the snow eases up."

Troye's house was full of surprises, but then that didn't surprise Tyler at all. It was Troye as a physical space. He had a small apartment, all one floor; living room, kitchen, bathroom and bedroom. But every tiny corner had been given his attention. Strings of origami hung in corners and paintings and collected items covered the walls in frames, like a museum. One wall was entirely dedicated to being a book shelf, crammed with titles Tyler had never heard of. He was clearly artistic; with the keyboard by the window and the table of scribbled notes and all the beautiful fabrics he'd selected to drape over his squashy chairs and the ribbons he'd wound around chair legs. Sentimental too, with the photos of family and friends littering his fridge. In his bathroom he had starry shower curtains and a giant rubber duck that stared at you from above the sink. Along the edges of the mirror, friends had written their names in pink lipstick.

Troye had gone to change and returned in (another) oversized item of clothing; a large polo shirt, something Tyler could imagine his dad wearing, grey sweatpants folded up at the ankles and droopy woolly socks. He stood by the sink as he filled his kettle with water, looking out the window onto the community garden square, gradually being tucked in with snow. In the middle of the window shelf he'd placed his tiny cactus, in between a long row of cactuses, all shapes and sizes. Tyler crossed the tiles to admire them more closely.

"So, that wasn't just an impulse buy..."

"Oh, yes it was." Troye clicked the kettle to boil. "They were all impulse buys, starting with the first one...this fella over here." He pointed to a fluffy white cactus, bowing its head against the wall.

"Why cactuses?"

Troye hopped up to sit on the counter, in front of his toaster. Tyler turned around, leaning back against the sink. On the cupboard in front of him was a pinned calendar, but words didn't fill the squares, it was pictures instead.

"Because they don't need watering. So much, anyway. I kill all other plants."

"Forget to water?"

"Or overwater."

Tyler nodded. Troye fiddled with his fingers and stared off into the distance slightly. Pushing off the sink, Tyler went to crouch in front of the heap of shopping bags in the corner. Poking through to see the contents, he picked out some items for the fridge.

"Oh, you don't have to-"

"No problem," Tyler smiled, opening the fridge door until he halted, blinking in shock. Troye pouted.

"I may have panicked a bit," Troye confessed quietly. Tyler laughed and sighed, tilting his head at the contents of the fridge; leaving little room for anything else.

"We can work around it," he said, and Troye smiled gratefully. Slipping off the counter as the kettle whistled its completion, he grabbed two mugs and spoons and made their drinks as Tyler played his game of Tetris with the fridge. When they sat down at the small kitchen table, a pile of old newspapers in the middle, they hummed as the warm drinks filled their bellies. Troye sat with his elbows on the wood, mug cupped in both hands as he leaned towards Tyler. They didn't chat about the usual introductory things – though those were covered in between discussions – Tyler picked up a newspaper and their conversation meandered from politics to fashion to music to philosophy. Tyler found himself further captivated by Troye as his eyes told the full stories to his words, his drink going cold in front of him. He spoke with not just his hands, as many people did, but with his entire body.

"There's this quote, 'It is said that passion makes one think in a circle.' Have you heard it?" Tyler shook his head, smiling distractedly. He'd decided Troye looked his most pretty when he was excited. "Oscar Wilde. I think it can explain so many things."

"Do you have a lot of quotes in your head?"

For some reason Tyler didn't understand, Troye blushed. Sitting a little quieter in his seat, he folded his hands in his lap.

"I don't know, maybe. Do you have a favourite?"

Tyler tapped his fingers against his mug (his being empty, the contents warm in his stomach). "I've read a lot of good ones, but I don't really remember them."

"Only the ones that feel personal stick with you."

"So do you?" Troye frowned. "Have a favourite?"

Troye's eyes flickered and he looked to the side, across to his line of cactuses. Taking a moment to think, his voice almost startled Tyler when he spoke again.

"'Eventually soulmates meet, for they have the same hiding place.'"

Tyler's lips parted to reply, but the words washed into him the second after they'd been spoken, sinking down through him. He stared at Troye, who looked somewhat nervous, wide eyes cautiously looking between Tyler's, perhaps checking to see if he'd understood, or rather hoping he hadn't. Jumping to standing, he grabbed his mug and poured the cold liquid down the sink. Tyler watched, deep in thought, when a bright white shape in the corner of his eye grabbed his attention.

Heavy snow, if not heavier than before, filled the sky and huddled layers upon layers across every surface available. It had already blanketed the roof of the building across from them, and as the sky dimmed into evening, the world quietened down. Scraping his seat back, he quick-stepped to the front door. Bitter wind smacked into him as he opened it, along with a deafening silence. The lampposts struggled to remain bright and only one car was battling its way down the road, so slow Tyler could see in to the lady driving it, a bouquet of roses on the seat beside her, talking desperately into her phone. Glancing at his own car, Tyler's heart sank. There was no way he could get home tonight, which meant asking to stay.

A slender hand settled on Tyler's shoulder. "Hmm," Troye whispered, his breath warm against the back of Tyler's neck. He lowered his hand to his side. The lady slammed on her brake lights as the nose of another car appeared in the opposite direction.

"Troye, I hate to ask..."

"Yes, you can stay." With his footsteps padding towards his bedroom, Tyler continued to gawp at the weather as Troye grabbed him a change of clothes and a large knitted jumper. "There should be just enough food for the two us," he muttered, and Tyler really couldn't tell if he was joking.

After putting away the rest of the shopping and discussing what to make for dinner, they found themselves hovering awkwardly around one another. Everything was quiet, and time was moving very, very slow. With the lasagne they'd made in the oven, Troye began whistling to himself, and Tyler sat down and got out his phone, restlessly reading old texts. They had the whole evening together now, a whole evening to continue the dynamic conversation he'd not wanted to end anyway. So why did it feel so hard to fill the time? Glancing up at Troye, who was dragging a paper towel across the already clean counter surface, Tyler locked his phone and got to his feet. Troye turned in surprise, and Tyler took a breath to speak.

"Should we-"

"Do you want to play a board game?"

Tyler's words dissolved in his mouth. Smiling eagerly – because anything, _anything_ was better than this – he nodded. Perhaps unsurprisingly, Troye had a cupboard full of games. Monopoly, Cluedo, Scrabble, Battleship, Mastermind, Snakes and Ladders, Guess Who....They bought both Battleship and Guess Who into the living room. Sitting cross-legged in the middle of the rug, they set up his game of Battleship first, with two plastic squares and little ships for you to fit into the grids. Troye's eyes were fierce over the top of where he sat with his knees up, keeping his answers secret behind them. Tyler kept laughing at the tension Troye was adding to the game with all his sneaky glances and intense eyes, as if they were x-rays to Tyler's mind. He ended up losing spectacularly, and Troye jumped up and danced around the room. Tyler rolled his eyes and dragged him back down by the hem of his shirt. He knocked into Tyler as he stumbled back to floor, hesitating where he'd collapsed with his knee pressed to Tyler's, Tyler's hand still clasped to his shirt. The sound around them seemed to muffle like the snow around the house, and Tyler had just begun to lean up when Troye darted to crawl to sit opposite him once again. Switching Battleship for Guess Who, he told Tyler he could really read his mind now.

Troye's Guess Who must've been very old as various slots were missing cards and instead filled with paper drawings of faces. Of course Tyler picked one of the drawings, 'Thomas', even though it probably put him at a disadvantage if Troye had drawn them. Troye asked what Tyler called 'annoying' questions, as he'd huffed in frustration when Troye asked 'do you have an estranged sibling' on the fifth round. As option after option got turned down – the ones who 'have their eyebrows plucked', the ones who 'enjoy a round of golf' – Tyler clapped his hands and announced that Troye was Nigel, the boy with red hair and glasses. Troye looked at him like he were insane.

"But you said you have red hair."

"Tyler, I don't have any hair," Troye held up his picture of Bill, with a red beard and moustache, "I'm bald."

So Troye won the second game. When he'd turned down the last tab on his board, he sighed loudly. "Thomas," he said, somewhat sadly, and Tyler frowned.

"Are you the same boy that just performed an impromptu rendition of Single Ladies upon winning Battleship?"

Troye didn't reply. He folded himself up to standing, taking the Guess Who board with him. Tyler squinted at the drawing of Thomas, a depiction of a handsome man, until Troye snatched his board away too. Tyler was just gathering the courage to ask if his drawings had been of people he knew, when Troye's alarm went off for their lasagne. Scurrying to the kitchen and clattering with getting out the plates, Tyler found Troye suddenly perked up, rambling about what film they should watch. Tyler let Troye pick, mostly because he didn't know any of the films Troye presented to him. Slotting in the DVD, Troye jumped down in his chair – pushed nearer to the one Tyler was sat on, already eating – only to immediately jump up again. "Blankets!" He gasped, in a similar tone to how he'd said 'mushrooms' earlier in the store, which made Tyler smile around his forkful of food. The film had already begun to play when Troye returned, a heap of his blankets weighing down his arms. Tyler laughed until Troye swung a blanket behind his head, pulling it around his shoulders and down over his face. Tyler pouted though Troye couldn't see, his fork halted in front of his now covered mouth.

They sat eating in silence for a while, soon moving their empty plates to the side and snuggling into the blankets. Tyler tried to watch the film, but Troye was far more interesting. His eyes were lit with the screen. 'I may have seen better days, but I'm still not to be had for the price of a cocktail', the actress would say, and Troye would reply 'like a salted peanut' at the same time as she. 'Nothing is forever in the Theatre,' he'd recite along with the film, 'whatever it is, it's here, it flares up, burns hot and then it's gone.' His stare was so fixated it almost burned.

Tyler was restless. The blanket was too hot and heavy over him. It was making him sweat. He didn't want to feel like he was going to bed. As it turns out, Troye was restless too, because the second Tyler kicked his blanket to the floor, Troye snapped up and walked to the bookshelf.

"What are you doing?"

"Looking for a book."

Troye frowned so hard at his shelf Tyler worried it would leave permanent marks.

"Can't you find it?"

"I don't have a system."

Quietly, though neither of them were watching the film anymore, Tyler stepped across to Troye. Before they knew it, all the books were in piles around them as they sorted the titles (because Troye wasn't so good at remembering authors) into alphabetical order. They did this in silence; Breakfast at Tiffany's, Diary of an Oxygen Thief, the Worm at the Core. Both centred all their attention onto the words, the letters; desperately so. Tyler's brain muddled with the letters, the shapes of them tangling together. Troye's hands were dizzy as he turned the pages of books. The room dimmed as the moon got shrouded with snow, leaving only the orange glow of Troye's lamp to keep them from darkness. What were they doing?! Tidying?

Troye was almost panting when the final book got sorted. After what felt like an hour, Troye met Tyler's eyes again. They stared at one another in complete silence, seeing through the disappearing mass of letters twisted in their minds. Troye stared like through the gaps in his fingers. "What now?" Tyler asked quietly.

Troye pursed his lips and hardened his stare. "Don't blink," he instructed. Tyler blinked in surprise and Troye frowned a little. Surrendering and playing along, Tyler joined the staring competition. He was definitely sweating now. Troye's irises widened and the pretty blue of his eyes deepened as if Tyler had swum down into them. What were they staring at each other for? Playing board games and half finishing films? Organising book shelves? It was distraction. Troye was staring at him to avoid _really_ staring at him; not for a competition, but because he just caught himself doing so.

"Troye," Tyler whispered, blinking again, but Troye didn't tell him off for it. He blinked too, and swallowed. "Do you just like...want to hook up?"

Troye bit his lip. Pressing in his teeth, he nodded. A new kind of silence fell around them; expectant, tense, exciting. Troye looked his prettiest again, eyes aflame with passion, with spirit. They sat for a moment, not knowing where to move, who was going to move first, and then awkwardly they met in the middle, shuffling forward on their knees. Troye knocked one of the piles of books as he did, but he didn't even look to it; he was greedily running his eyes over Tyler, how he'd been wanting to all night. Sighing with a little laughter, Tyler raised a hand to push Troye's hair behind his ear, though it didn't stay put when he did. Troye looked down and his eyelashes splayed like feathers against his soft skin.

Glancing back up, he leapt forward to capture Tyler's lips. Tyler hummed at the sudden contact, but soon relaxed into the kiss. Sliding a hand into Troye's hair, he opened his mouth to Troye's tongue, indulging in all the gorgeous sensations his lips provided. Dipping his fingertips to the back of Troye's neck, he moved his other hand to slip beneath that stupid dad shirt to hold the small of his back. Troye pushed his hips back at the contact, leaning further into Tyler, and grabbed the hem of the jumper he'd given him with small fists. Tyler removed his hands from Troye and lifted his arms. When the jumper was gone, tossed to the side, Troye dived to kiss the top of his belly, leading up to his collarbone. Tyler smoothed both hands around to Troye's spine, suddenly desperate to unwrap him. As Troye lifted his chin for another kiss, Tyler turned him over so he lay down between the books with Tyler above him. Tyler felt his crotch begin to ache beneath his trousers. With all the anticipation leading up to this, he was harder than ever.

Running fingers over the freckles on Tyler's back, Troye settled onto the rug, completely ready to be kissed and fucked. He pushed down on Tyler's pelvis and bit the bottom of his lip lightly as they kissed. Tyler growled lowly and pulled Troye's shirt up to his neck where Troye did the rest. Pressing the heel of his hand into Troye's hardened cock, Tyler clasped his nipple between his lips and kissed it tenderly in contrast to the pressure of his hand. Troye whined and lifted a stray knee, kicking restlessly at the floor with the pleasure. Tyler used his other hand to hold down his hip. Troye sighed and lifted both arms above his head, letting them fall back against the floor dramatically. Tyler flicked his eyes up to see his pouty lips moving with his heavy breath and smiled. Bringing his hand beneath Troye's waistband to directly grab his cock, he lifted up to kiss Troye.

Troye gasped at the fresh contact, of Tyler's warm, rough palm, and feebly kissed him back, head rolling slightly on the floor. Tyler abandoned his lips and kissed the sensitive skin beneath his ear. Troye hummed and drew one hand down to grab onto Tyler's hair. Tyler tightened his hand around Troye's cock, leaking onto his knuckles, and relished in the moan that escaped Troye's mouth. Placing the softest kiss to his throat, Troye arched his neck, so instinctive and receptive to Tyler's every touch. Tyler's heart swelled. He was maddening. Exhausting...He was so impossibly delicious to please. Beginning to pump Troye's length, Tyler felt for his waistband. Troye writhed beneath him, eyes closed, no help as Tyler struggled to take his trousers off one-handed. Tyler grinned. So Troye bats the eyelashes. What a princess.

Leaving Troye's body cold so that he sat up onto his elbows, Tyler kicked his trousers to the side and climbed back across Troye, smirking at him with darkened eyes as he pulled his sweatpants off too. Smoothing a hand up from the side of his ass to his waist, Tyler leaned up Troye's body and kissed his cheek. Troye fluttered his eyes and smiled. "Baby," Tyler drawled, taking his earlobe tenderly between his teeth. Troye shivered slightly and as Tyler indulged in nuzzling his nose to his neck, he snaked a hand between them to take Tyler's cock in his hand. Tyler's head lifted at the touch and he glanced at Troye in shock, who stared at him boldly. Running the pad of his thumb over Tyler's slit, he smiled as Tyler's mouth opened on an empty scream, strangled in his throat. Panting, sweat glistening over his shoulders, he hit Troye's hand away and pushed him back to the floor, pressing his body into his and grinding his cock on his hip. Troye managed a breathless laugh which Tyler nipped at, kissing him deeply as he held Troye's slender wrists in both hands.

Reaching down to grab Troye beneath the knees, Tyler left Troye flustered from the treatment, his hands remaining pinned to the carpet by the ghost of Tyler's touch. Folding him so his ass exposed itself to him, Tyler leaned forward to kiss it, licking filthily at the hole. Troye's breathing stuttered as Tyler sunk two fingers in his mouth, slicking them with saliva. Sliding one hand up Troye's hip to lay against his soft stomach, where he could feel his breath, he circled his fingertip against Troye's entrance. Troye flung his hand down and pushed his fingers between the gaps in Tyler's, sighing when Tyler squeezed his hand and pushed the first finger in.

Biting onto his fist, Troye burned with the addition of a second finger. Holding them still, Tyler tilted his head to kiss Troye's inner thigh, his hair brushing – tickling – his skin. Troye lifted his hips and Tyler smiled where he kissed the lowest part of thigh he could reach. He began driving his fingers in and out of Troye's body, bending his fingers to tease against the spot that made him untangle into the floor. Kissing his pelvis, he squeezed Troye's hand once, letting Troye's nails lightly scratch him as he removed his, and took hold of his own cock. He shivered at the almost painful sensitivity.

"Tyler-r," Troye mewled, running his fingers into his hair and pulling just slightly. Tyler followed his touch and lifted to face him again, letting his fingers fall from his clenching muscles. Troye ran the backs of his fingers down Tyler's cheeks and then raised onto his side and turned onto his knees. Shakily getting to his feet, he stumbled from the room before Tyler could sit up. Squeezing his cock and whimpering with need, he followed after Troye. Halfway down the corridor, Troye appeared and collided with Tyler's chest, a bottle of lube and condom in hand. Tyler grinned with relief and took the items as Troye stared at him, wide-eyed and blushing. Pushing on his chest, Tyler dipped his forehead to Troye's and walked him backwards into his bedroom.

The light was off and it took a moment for Tyler's eyes to adjust. Troye fell back to sit on the edge of the bed, panting up at Tyler. Then, slinking his hand around Tyler's wrist, he crawled to the centre of the bed and, on all fours, lowered his head to the pillow, guiding Tyler's hand to press back into his ass. Breathing out softly against the bedsheets, he arched his neck and lifted his ass even further into Tyler's vision.

Troye smiled to himself and closed his eyes. Tyler's cock twitched and he shifted closer, taking Troye's ass in both hands. Troye hummed with approval and Tyler raked his eyes up from his neck to his pretty little hole, draped in shadows so the contours of his body appeared even more beautiful. Drowning in desire, he clenched his hands over Troye's ass then dragged them away to hurriedly roll on the condom and cover it with lube. He could hear Troye's heavy breathing filling the dark room, mingling with his own, and felt his chest constrict with the need to turn it into moan after moan. Shakily finishing, he grabbed Troye's waist and pulled him closer. Troye gasped with delight at the sudden rough handling, and clawed his arms above him into the corners of the pillows.

Brushing his thumb over Troye's skin, Tyler used his other hand to line himself up and then wipe the sweat from his forehead. Glancing to Troye's sweet face, pressed into the bed, readily biting his lip with anticipation, Tyler tightened his grip and began pressing forward. Troye let out a strangled cry and clenched his hands in the fabric. Slowly, Tyler breached his hole and sunk into the velveteen warmth. Slipping his hands from his waist to Troye's shoulders, Tyler dropped his head to the small of Troye's back and moaned deeply. Troye panted and turned to kiss the fingers pressing into his shoulder. Tyler thrusted once at the tender kiss. Troye's head collapsed back onto the pillow. Moving a second time, Tyler breathed heatedly against the bottom of Troye's spine as he began to pick up pace, settling into a rhythm. Shallow, slow, and then he deepened; longer, harder. Troye's breath hitched and he moved with him, rocking on the bed.

Tyler tilted Troye's hips further and pulled out. Troye gasped and flailed as Tyler held still. Tension kicked and screamed inside him and then Tyler plunged into him again, deeper yet, and brushed right up against the sweet space that gave way to the rawest moan tumbling from the depths of Troye's chest. Damp with sweat and reckless with the heat, he pushed himself away from Tyler as he drew out and fell onto his back. Tyler hesitated with confusion but didn't have the time to be confused when Troye reached for his neck and pulled him down with him. Bumping his throbbing cock against Tyler's, he hugged his arms further around Tyler's neck so that his face fell to his shoulder as he pushed back inside. Troye sighed heavily and smiled into the darkness, the briefest flickers of cold air dancing across his face.

Tyler sped up, losing rhythm and depth, but the friction made them both dizzy with pleasure. Scrunching his toes and stretching his leg out across the bedsheets, Troye saw white spots begin to prick in his eyes, splaying out like bleach in the night sky. His skin tingled and like a wave pushing against a dam, the stars disappeared and the bleach trickled out into the corners and all around his head. His body filled with the raging wash of orgasm. He felt Tyler lift up as his face melted with bliss, and seconds after a deep, cavernous groan filled his ears and Tyler jutted to a stop inside of him. Troye's hole pulsed around Tyler's cock, pressing every last bit of insatiable orgasm out of him.

Skidding his nails down Troye's sides, Tyler absorbed every last inch of him, before removing his cock with a slight tug to Troye's flesh. Troye rolled his eyes open to look at him in the dark, pupils blown black. Tyler was sat back on his heels, slick with sweat, breath slowing down. Slowly, he grinned and then he crawled forward and met Troye's own smile with a messy, adoring kiss. Rolling him into the bed with him, Troye pushed Tyler's hair back and gently removed his glasses, which had slightly steamed up. Then he slid the condom from his softening length and left Tyler, arms reaching for him again, as he dropped the condom into the trash. Falling back into his embrace, he snuggled his face close and sighed happily.

"Did you just play board games with me because you didn't know how to ask if you could fuck me?" Troye whispered.

"Kinda, yeah. Did you?"

"No, I played board games because I didn't know if I should fuck you."

Tyler opened his eyes and looked down at the top of Troye's head. "What do you mean by that?"

Troye shook his head and grabbed for the bed covers. Pulling them over their shaking bodies, he turned around and fit himself against the shape of Tyler. Tyler hugged him right back, but even as he fell to sleep deeply satisfied, a nagging thought at the back of his mind continued to replay what Troye had said.

The morning light was hazy and sticky when Tyler woke, delighted to find a warm body across from him. He'd always loved the mornings after sex; the slow beat of time. The mornings after a hook up, however, were different. Those were usually cold; silently treading to get dressed and out into the cold before fully waking up. But last night hadn't felt like a hook up. They'd had too much of a connection, had already woven the start of a story. In any case, Tyler didn't _want_ it to be a hook up.

Conflicted with what to do next, whether Troye would have the same ideas as him, he was interrupted by the snuffled awaking of the boy next to him. Peeking open one eye, Troye looked at him for a long moment. Tyler thought he looked conflicted too, but then a shy hand scrambled at his chest, asking for him to move closer. Tyler shuffled over and Troye hopped into place so their noses brushed. Eyes dancing between Tyler's, he looked down to his lips.

"Hi," he greeted.

Tilting his eyes questioningly, Tyler decided to peck Troye's lips as his greeting. Troye kissed back. Pressing his lips together afterwards, Troye's eyelashes softened down against his cheeks. They were silent for a moment, and then Troye kissed Tyler himself, and got out of bed.

Padding sleepily into the kitchen, Troye scratched his head and poured a glass of water. Sipping quietly, he looked down on his row of cactuses. His chest burned slightly with his breath, even through the fading clutches of sleep. His window shelf couldn't afford to fit another.

Turning to the calendar, he briefly observed the previous days' drawings. Yesterdays was yet to be filled, given his surprising evening. Scratching around for his pencil, he put his glass down and began to draw inside the little square. The muted brushes of lead against paper surrounded him in the quiet room, only joined by the distant tweeting of birds. His lines were softer this time, compared to the hardened scratches from the rest of the month. He tenderly shaped his drawing; cautiously added the shadows. Other days he'd broken the lead from pressing too hard, but right now he worked with the pencil. Stepping back with a small exhale, he looked at the simple picture of a boy's face; warm eyes and gentle smile, inviting even on paper. His heart beat encouragingly inside of him. Glancing around at the window – the world lay to sleep with snow, all the flowers that would have to blossom again – he shivered and tripped back towards the bedroom.

Tyler had closed his eyes again, dozing quietly, but he was right where Troye had left him; lips in the shape of his kiss. Silently getting back beneath the covers, Troye watched as Tyler surfaced to look at him.

He hadn't needed those gardening gloves; he'd wanted to get to know Troye. And Troye's car was still parked at the supermarket. Maybe Tyler didn't know that, maybe he did, either way the snow had fallen and it wouldn't melt for another day.

Pressing his head to Tyler's chest, against his steady heartbeat, Troye smiled.

"Still snowing?"

"Still snowing. I suggest we build the longest line of dominoes."


End file.
